


operation never get kissed

by doubtthestars



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Character Study, Gen, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubtthestars/pseuds/doubtthestars
Summary: a coda to the san marino game.Julian Brandt, a man of few words and many thoughts embarks on a mission (of self-discovery)That has nothing to do with Leon f**king Goretzka.





	1. max is always right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ascience](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ascience/gifts).



> This is garbage but i wanted to write something for frauke. happy belated birthday!!

It's not a competition. 

Julian doesn't believe in mantras or luck but he repeats the phrase until he can fix his smile on properly in case of the cameras focusing on him. Nobody should be surprised that footballers were competitive and Julian should've known better than to take the bet but they were dumb and young, and if Draxler still hadn't implemented initiation singing then clearly, they would be left to their own devices. The stupid bets were practically currency at this point.

If he's being honest, he gets along with Jo more than he does Leon(and he hardly ever sees Joshua.) He could never quantify the _why_ but the years only cemented the uneasy, squirmy feeling that settled somewhere along his spine when he saw Goretzka. He had briefly tried to explain it to Bernd, who gave him a long, appraising look before shrugging.

"You don't have to get along with everyone on the team." 

But it bothered him. 

"Last game before the tournament. Who's going to score first?" Emre claps his hands to get everyone's attention. Matthias groans from his spot on the floor. He had already lost a decent amount of money and favors over the weeks. Younes immediately goes over to Emre to put down a name. He goes around, carefully tapping out the odds on his phone. 

"He really shouldn't leave a paper trail like that. One day, Jogi will sniff out the culprit of these 'distractions'." Trapp softens the blow by smiling at his audience of four, including Joshua who looks like he is rethinking putting down money. 

"Anybody else want to put their name for our fearless captain?" Emre calls out, teasing the obvious result in favor for Draxler. Julain huffs. Marc raises his hand and Emre hops over to him, avoiding a sprawled out Henrichs on his phone. Bernd snorts but blessedly doesn't say anything snide about his choice in safe bets. 

"Okay, top three by my count: Captain Jule, Goretzka, and Brandt." Emre announces the final list before swanning back to talk to Antonio. Julian doesn't mean to catch Leon's eye but he craned his head around to speculate who had bet on him and meets his pleased stare. 

He looks away first. 

Julian doesn't need a bet to give it his best but it sure does give him a boost through training. 

Competitiveness wasn't a crime. Leon wasn't the enemy. He just wanted to show the trainers he was a good choice, a solid name to add to the roster permanently once the summer was over. If he had to be better than Leon, it was no skin off his nose. Julian nodded to himself, glad to have a firm handle on it.

"You know you've been staring at Goretzka for the past ten minutes right?" Niklas was on the exercise bike next to his. Julian blinked. 

"I wasn't staring. I was spacing out." thinking about the parameters of a rivalry and whether it would effect the high spirits of the team, he doesn't say. Niklas hums thoughtfully.

"You've been doing that a lot lately, in his direction." Julian immediately wants to deny it. He wasn't made for a schweinski-type bromance. It would be easier to quell whatever wrong notions Suele had right now instead of waiting for it to spread in the gossip mill. 

"I have a lot to think about," he speeds up on the bike. 

The first half is frustrating, even after Draxler settles the bet, Julian is compelled to find a goal. Leon seems to be of the same mind as he inches into the box at any opportunity San Marino gives him. It doesn't get better in the second and Julian tries to shake it off. They were up four and didn't seem to be stopping any time soon. He should be glad that he wasn't benched like Henrichs or Bernd. 

Wagner is the first to congratulate him. He had thrown his whole body into the header. It was inelegant and his desperate adrenaline held him by the throat the entire time. He blinks and suddenly finds himself in Leon's arms. His hand cupping the back of his head. It shouldn't be a surprise but Julian inhales sharply, doesn't move, waits for Leon to say something (surely he would, with his lips so close to his ear.) 

The moment ends and Julian is too aware of the crowd, his body, and Leon's smile in that order.

Antonio is his seatmate on the bus and doesn't remark on the number of times he scrubs his hair back or bounces his leg anxiously. His unease only magnifies when he opens his messenger and finds multiple congrats along with a string of emojis from Max, heavily featuring the eggplant emoji.

Niklas was going to die a painful and creative death once Julian got his head on straight.

 **What.** he sends back and is immediately rewarded with a sign of life. Not surprisingly as Max was practically surgically attached to his phone. Julian's thoughts circle around someone else who is entirely too dependent on their social media apps and halts the progression of that train of thought.

 **100% goal!! Go celebrate. Don't brood in ur room about the chances u missd** , ending it with the peace sign emoji. Typical Max, all in all. It was annoying how well he knew his teammates, and how he knew exactly what Julian was prone to do after a game. Captain's prerogative, Max called it, to give unsolicited advice to players.

 **I don't brood** , it's a familiar argument, making him feel strangely better.

 **The cure for brooding: gtting laid!! Need tips?** The salacious emoji sticking its tongue out along with several eggplants and peaches attached. Julian didn't make it a habit to sleep with teammates. Mustafi poked him, asking him to weigh in on the winner of a theoretical fight between Jerome Boateng and Niklas. He picked Boateng. Everyone knew Niklas was too much of a fanboy. 

Max's last text made Julian go red. **Leon, four gold star emojis, lost pts bc x-armed guy emoji orgy.** another winky face. 

Damned oversharing midget, Julian was tempted to block his number.

Sandro was his roommate and was still celebrating his hattrick when Julian planted himself face-down on his bed. His shoulders ached from holding in tension, uncomfortable and stupid. Now he had Max on his case and who knows who else Niklas had deemed to spread his gossip to, Shkodran and Emre probably. He groaned. 

As long as Leon didn't believe it. 

Julian could and would ruthlessly suppress whatever overtook his lizard brain on the pitch. Maybe he should've checked with someone on staff about his head. No, that was over dramatic and he didn't want to jeopardize his spot on the team for a false alarm. He hadn't hit the ground that hard. Julian frowned into his pillow, preoccupied with planning the best way to battle the gossip mill. 

"Julian?" He jumped, why was he sitting around in the dark. That was practically the definition of brooding, Max's voice piped up in his head.

He switched on the lamp light. 

Leon was in his room.

Julian added Sandro to his murder tally. He was going to extract whatever information Younes had on Wagner and exploit it to the fullest extent. He was staring again, Julian's inner Max pointed out helpfully. 

"Yeah?" He composed himself, twisting his shirt back into shape. 

"The other, uh, Draxler wants to talk to you." Leon ticks his head to the door, looking as if he was roped unwillingly to be messenger. Julian kept his mouth shut and nodded. The best way to get this over with was to get through it. Julian was still shaking off his surprise when Leon clapped a hand on his shoulder. He held back a flinch, his back up awkwardly.

"Good game, yeah?" And that pulls an awkward smile out of Julian. It's more familiar ground with new context. It also make guilt churn uncomfortably in his stomach. Leon had been a captain long before Julian's hormones decided to chime in. He had never been close with Leon but he still respected him. Draxler, on the other hand, didn't command that sort of leadership yet, more like an errant brother given the lead on a group assignment.

"Yeah, same to you." He wants to add some platitude along the lines of Leon was sure to get a goal in the confederations cup but Leon opens the door and Julian frantically tried to hold onto his reserved public persona once he walks out.

"Are you feeling okay? Max-," Julian hacks out a cough after choking in a breath. He goes numb in fear of whatever cryptic emoji spell he might've sent Leon in regards to the situation. Somehow, he had forgotten how close they were. Gold stars flash in his thoughts mockingly. Feelings were clearly a hindrance to his higher brain function. Max and Leon practically lived in each other's pockets and were grossly codependent even when they were apart. 

He steels himself to deny, deny, and deny some more. 

"Max said you were probably sulking." Leon shoves his hands into his pockets, marginally looking more at ease walking alongside him.

"I don't--what. I wasn't sulking."

Leon huffs out a laugh, "it looked like you were sulking." 

"You shouldn't believe everything Max tells you." Julian mutters out, making Leon laugh for real. It sounds strange, taking Julian off guard. 

"That, I already know. Max is convinced Trapp is going to end up sleeping with half the team by the time the confed cup is over." Leon grins at him. He feels his heart stutter in his chest and goes hot under his collar. Julian resists returning the smile. He was not going down that road with Leon freaking Goretzka. Finding a teammate attractive was bad enough. 

"All at once or individually? We'll have to do well, to give him time, won't we?" Shit, was he flirting. Did he just obliquely refer to the orgy Leon vetoed. Max was definitely the devil on his shoulder.

Leon reached out a hand to steady himself as he bent over with laughter. 

That was how Draxler found them in the hall. 

"Oh, you found him," Leon's hand tightened on his arm slightly. Julian sensed something was very off between the captain and Leon, which was concerning, considering they were rooming together. Leon suddenly let his hand drop and straightened up, clearing his throat for a second or two.

"You wanted me for something, Captain?" Julian asked casually. The air got stranger as Draxler smiled as he would normally. Leon shifted on his feet, leaning away from him.

"Just wondering what was keeping you from celebrating. Shkodran set up another table tennis tournament with teams this time. We were short a man since Jonas has to keep his wrist wrapped." Julian was trying to figure out why Leon was so tense. It was puzzling. Unless the other Julian had been replaced by a pod person, he couldn't see any reason why Leon would be acting so strangely. 

"Okay, I'll join." He says slowly, still shooting glances between them. "What team am I on?"

"With Leon." Draxler cheerfully answers him, already doubling back to lead them to the game room. 

Once they were with the others, Julian let it slip from his mind until he was back in his room. Wagner hogging the bathroom with an extra long shower. Julian had decided he deserved it after all he had done in the game but still. It gave the time to mull over the mystery of Leon. He definitely wasn't fixated for selfish reasons, after all, they were a team and if Leon had a problem with their captain then it spelled bad news for everyone. 

He texted Musti for any information first. He would keep it quiet if it was a serious matter and he had the room next to the captain's so he could potentially have overheard something.

 **No, Jules hasn't said anything about a fight. Why?**

Julian bit his lip. Maybe it was personal. Maybe it was something to do with Schalke or not scoring a goal against San Marino. Hadn't he been going crazy with the same motive. Perhaps Leon had really wanted to be Draxler instead. Did that mean _Julian_ didn't factor as competition? He was getting a headache. 

**Nevermind. Thanks.** He plugged in his phone and covered his eyes with an arm. 

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Julian wasn't an idiot. The more he fixated on this, the more complicated it would get. Leon wasn't the enemy, but he wasn't his friend either. He didn't have the time to contemplate feelings when the tournament was right around the corner. It was time to step up into the spotlight with the retirements and the lineup changes the national team was going through. This was their chance to become a household name the likes of Schweinsteiger, Podolski, Lahm and Mertesacker. Their journeys had begun at the Confederations Cup. 

It didn't matter that he had a Olympic silver medal and a good fanbase at Bayer Leverkusen. He had to prove himself on a bigger stage. 

And Leon Goretzka wasn't going to impede that, so he had to get rid of these dumb impulses fast. Julian sat up on his bed abruptly when the idea struck.

He should have sex and his problem would be solved.

Julian hated when Max was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The german grading system does not make for a fun rating system--Max, probably. Brandt is a little bit Lahm-esque or Slytherin? Oh god, what have I done. I might be persuaded to write more if the muse strikes. Leave a comment if you want a smile.


	2. like a cat landing on its feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian makes an ally and thinks about stuff.

Julian was going to seduce Timo Werner. 

But first, he needed to talk to Jo urgently. The problem was Joshua was well-liked on the team and was constantly surrounded by their teammates when Julian needed to pull him aside to privately speak to him. He had to keep his plan under wraps or else it would never work. Timo was in too a precarious situation to want to be the center of attention for the wrong reasons (again). Julian wasn't going to give Jo all the pieces, but he really did need a favor from him.

"I need to talk to you." It's in the spare minutes between getting off the bus to head to their afternoon training. Jo tilts his head no less than three times looking like an overgrown bird before cheerily asking him what he could help him with.

"Keep Leon and Demirbay occupied at dinner for me." Joshua looks confused for a moment before grinning at him.

"Is this for a prank?" He deliberately lowers his voice, excitement rushing the words into each other. Julian takes a beat too long before deciding what Jo doesn't know won't kill him or leave him scarred for life or something. Same principal. He hardly ever wanted to think about Joshua in an intimate situation so why shouldn't the inverse apply. He nods, satisfied at the cover story. 

"Yes, can you do that?" Jo's head bobs up and down like a figurine. 

Julian sighs in relief. 

He could move onto the rest of the plan.

Werner likes his bubble of quietude at mealtimes. He isn't sure if it was a result of the diving mishap or if he was slow to warm up to the group. Either way, Julian was unobtrusive and could be funny when he put his mind to it. He was confident he could charm his way into Timo's pants. 

Julian hadn't counted on Draxler being nosy.

Dinner had been progressing nicely. Timo was a bland conversationalist but Julian made up for it with stories of Karim's dog and his getting into adventures and the first and final time he went on Hakan's moped. Their captain ended up hearing the last story with a carefree smile. Julian was avidly imagining having the ability to turning him away with the power of his mind, but he sat down instead. 

"What brings you to the table?" Julian doesn't grit his teeth, but his smile probably looks a little wooden.

"Ah, well, I just saw you two all the way over here. Captain's prerogative, I thought, I should check in. Emre told me you beat him on the quad machine, Timo." Draxler inquired politely. Julian watched as the conversation derailed into their routines at home and what their favorite post-workout meals were. 

He had to know he was cock-blocking Julian. There was no way captain duties had to be enforced right at this moment, when Julian was trying his hardest to ease Timo into seeing him as potential fling material. The other Julian wasn't oblivious. He had a motive, but Julian was sure he covered his bases. He had been careful and calculating. He was missing something. 

Timo was wrapped up in whatever morning versus night debate Draxler had instigated, so Julian took a deep breath. This wasn't a setback. He couldn't build Rome in a day and certainly didn't want to spook Timo and miss his chance. He was one of the few candidates left on the team that wasn't out of his league, unavailable, or not an option whatsoever. He had laid the seed down. He could take Draxler's distraction for today, but he wasn't giving up.

Julian watched the other tables for some minutes, lingering on Jo and the others he was regaling with some story that required him to pantomime. Leon was laughing like the others. He skipped over to Demirbay at the scene.

There was another variable, as Kerem was rooming with Timo. He had to keep him out of the way and Jo wouldn't repeat this favor without getting suspicious. 

He had more planning to do.

Julian knows if the three musketeers in their backline ever suspect him using the sacred betting process for his own gain, there would be so much hell to pay. He thinks it's worth the risk because getting Younes involved is like trying to tell a kitten 'no'. Julian pits Younes and Kerem against one another in a dare and casually mentions it to Toni who runs to get the bookies. 

It manages to pique interest for most of the squad as well. Julian merrily goes on his way to Werner's room. There was practically a built-in excuse to bother Timo since he had declined to hangout with the rest of them. He loved when a plan came together.

He knocks on the door. 

Timo shouts that he'll be just a minute. Julian rocks on his heels minutely as he waits. He has a good feeling he could implement the next phase of his plan if this goes well. 

The door opens with a bit of a squeak. 

"Oh, hey." Timo looks surprised to see him. 

"Hey, are you busy?" Julian's nerves come back. He wasn't naturally forward, but this was a problem that needed to be fixed before it became much bigger. 

"I was skyping my mom but I just finished." 

They hover at the door and Julian cracks a smile, willing himself to get back to the task at hand. 

"Can I come in? I was going to tell you that Younes and Kerem are competing against each other in the recreation room but I doubt you're interested in that." Timo steps aside to let him in. Julian gets a small adrenaline rush as the door closes behind him and he bodily backs Timo into the nearest wall. 

"What are you doing?" His hands are between them, only slightly pressing against Julian, unsure or unwilling. 

"What do you think?" Julian kisses him, barely tilting his head down to find Timo's mouth. His racing thoughts are distracting him, stomach hovering somewhere down by his shoes. It's nothing like he expected because he feels nothing but a small curiousity to what Timo will do and frustration at the result of a plan. 

He backs off before Timo says a word. 

"Why did you do that?" Julian has to give him credit because he only sounds startled and not angry at the brief contact.

"I'm sorry. I needed to..." He isn't sure how to explain it without sounding like an asshole, which he was for trying to use Timo to get over some feelings. 

"needed to forget someone?" Timo says dryly. Julian winces.

"Not exactly. Preemptively forgetting sounds ridiculous. You're handsome and I should have been able to at least offer you a handjob or something. It was perfect timing, but I can't. Would you even sleep with me?" Julian's voice sounds odd, rushed and filled with a million doubts. 

Timo moves away from the wall and sits on the bed closest to them, red-faced before scooting over to leave Julian some room to sit as well.

"I'm flattered, but I think you should've asked that before kissing me." He clears his throat before continuing, "and you're not subtle. I may not be part of the inner circle but anyone paying enough attention could've told you your 'preemptive strike' would not work. I'm pretty sure there's a bet on it." Timo hesitantly finished.

Julian groaned into his hands, absolutely mortified. Emre _had_ leered at him suspiciously after the group had a session with Miro, conveniently putting him nearest Leon as they went through their exercises.

"That means everybody on the squad knows. **Jogi** probably knows at this point." is muffled between his hands. It is also meant no one on the team would believe a sudden rush of passion from him, no matter what he did. Timo patted his back quick and light.

"It's not such a big deal. He's probably used to it." Julian tenses.

Timo withdraws his hand and shifts the bed with the movement. He finally looks up. 

"Who, Jogi or Leon?" Timo shrugs awkwardly, his face stuck between guilty and sorry. Julian sighs. It didn't matter which he meant because it was just the same in the end. Both were true. Maybe somewhere along the line, Julian had recognized it without being aware of why it bothered him so much, why Leon bothered him this much. 

"Right, I wasn't trying to forget him, just get over this faster. I'm sorry, again, for all of this." He waves his hand around, trying to ignore the misery in his tone. 

Timo met the apology with a serious face before laughing.

"It's definitely the strangest way to become friends, Brandt, but I forgive you." They giggle together relieved as the air cleared and was less stuffy with complication and pretense. It's how Julian almost misses the soft knock at the door. Timo eyebrows go up in question. Julian shakes his head, not knowing who it could be.

"Yes? Who is it?" 

"Hey Werner, it's Leon. I wanted to ask you something?" They both freeze and look at each other, but before Julian can reboot his brain, Timo starts gesturing to the bathroom. He gets off the bed and messes with his hair, closes his eyes for a second while Julian stares in mute surprise.

Timo shooes him faster to hide. 

"Hold on, be right there," he answers and mouths something at Julian before flicking on the bathroom light and opening the door. Julian watches his reflection cycle through horror and anticipation.

Leon coughs slightly.

"Sorry, did I wake you up from a nap?" 

"No," Timo is curt and Julian bites his lip in order not to smile.

"Okay," Leon draws out the sound, "have you seen Julian, Brandt, not Draxler. I thought I saw him head up but he's not in his room."

"Yes," a beat of silence is stretched enough to make Julian wonder what Timo will say. "Do you need him for something?" It's just enough coyness to make Leon understand the implication. Julian's eyes went wide.

"Oh, um, no--no, I just wanted to--I, Miro, uh, I was talking to Miro and I remembered something. Anyway it's not important, goodnight." Julian didn't move until Timo closed the door.

"What the fuck?" He whispered, peeking his head out. Timo rolled his eyes, held a finger to his lips before turning on the tap and leaning in close to his ear.

"I told you to trust me, Leon completely bought that. You're welcome. Wait five minutes and go out like you don't care that you were caught. He's either going to be at the end of the hall or you can safely get back to your room before the gossip starts."

Julian was still amazed at the turnaround of the situation. Timo had managed to fabricate a half-lie with great result in a few minutes while Julian had been planning for days. He should've been honest since the beginning if this was what Timo could do with all the cards in his hand.

"Why did you do that?"

"We're friends and Leon deserves a kick in the ass every once in a while. You should be good to go. If you see him, you'll know if he's serious or not. Good luck." Timo pushes him out the door before Julian can question what he meant. 

He tries to pace himself, butterflies bombarding his stomach. If he was serious? Julian chewed on that thought. If Leon was serious about what?

"Julian?" He jumped like a startled cat. Shit, he wasn't supposed to act guilty.

"Leon, I thought you had gone back downstairs." Julian studied him closely. He mostly looked happy to see him and that sent his stomach squirming again. How on earth was he going to keep the story going if he couldn't control himself or his emotions. 

"Good evening?" Leon was fishing very casually, leaving it to Julian to confirm if there was something to talk about. Both of them were standing in the hallway, absurdly Julian wanted to laugh in the strange quiet. He shrugged deliberately, meeting his eyes and knowing he couldn't lie. It didn't matter because Leon was _here_.

_If you see him, you'll know_

"Yeah, Timo's a good friend." 

The corners of Leon's mouth twitched up but before Julian could see if a flow-blown smile came to happen, he turned his head and started walking.

"So, you missed Demirbay calling foul play." Julian could hear it in his tone. Leon was totally smiling.

_if he's serious or not._

"Does that mean Amin won?" 

Leon regaled him with how exactly Younes won and Kerem was a sore loser because it had comes down to a tiebreaker that involved the two of them giving piggyback rides to various teammates and Demirbay calling Mustafi fat unintentionally. 

"So Emre declared the winner and Kerem said he didn't mean it that way but the damage was already done. I do think Younes go it fairly. He wasn't even that winded at the end." Leon chuckled and stopped walking once they got to Julian's door. Julian waited with the room key in his hand, and felt a little like the girl get dropped off in a movie, which was ridiculous because they were both footballers who were in this hotel for one reason: the Confederations Cup.

"Do you want to go mini-golfing tomorrow? Miro mentioned going golfing and I remembered they have that mini-golf course here that we can use."

"Yeah, mini-golf sounds good." Julian fights to keep his cool. "I should get in," he nods to the door. Leon steps back, nodding.

"Right, um, good night, Julian." 

"Good night Leon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so many emotions, so little time. Next up: the mini golf! Julian Draxler and the chaos he sows! Kevin Trapp has flawless skin? Oh yeah and the game against Australia!!


End file.
